


A Second Too Late

by Pizzachu



Category: Thor: Tales of Asgard
Genre: Gen, Major Character Injury, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzachu/pseuds/Pizzachu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, for anyone unfamiliar with "Thor: Tales of Asgard," this is a what-if story based on a scene about half-way through the movie in which Thor and Loki meet up with the unsuspecting Warriors Three. Its sole purpose was to make the warriors aware of the brothers' presence before they travel on to Jotunheim, but for entertainment purposes there is a fight scene added where the Asgardians fight the other people drinking in the inn and then run away, unharmed and laughing all the while. So, I started off with a bit of a recap of the scene up to my change. My story takes over at a particular point when the wolf, Fenris, has Loki backed against a wall, and Thor comes and knocks the beast away from his brother before it can hurt him. Well, what if Thor had been just a second too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The Warriors Three set sail early this morning under the pretense of searching Jotunheim for the Sword of Surtur, a powerful weapon long since lost. But in actuality here the three liars sit in a drafty inn nowhere near the home of the frost giants, waiting to overhear the heroic (and soon to be stolen) tales of the other patrons. The inn is filled with all kinds of fold; be they Asgardians, nixies, dwarves, hobgoblins, or any other race you could imagine hidden amongst the rabble. However, the Warriors Three now stare in disbelief at the last people they ever expected (or wanted) to see here. Before them stood the two young princes of Asgard, Thor and Loki Odinson. Having stowed away aboard the warriors' boat, the two boys simply smile at the horrified men gathered around the table. This couldn't possibly lead to anything good...

"Relax. Lift your steins for a toast, lads, to frigid worlds and lost swords!" Grabbing a mug form a waitress' tray behind him, Thor raises the drink for his proposed toast, smiling joyously as he does so. But before the prince can take even a single drought, a large furry claw clamps on his arm and pulls him around to face its owner.

"You took my ale." Fenris the wolf glares down at Thor with murder in his eyes.

"You dare lay your foul-smelling paw on the son of Odin?" Thor meets Fenris's stare with an indignant one of his own. The monstrous wolf only growls in response.

An ax crashes down on the table next to them. "Stay your hands!" The barkeeper is annoyed at the two for causing such a fuss in his establishment, "Fenris..." With a final threatening snarl at Thor, Fenris rips the stein from Thor's hand and storms away to stand on the other side of the room.

"Ugh! And I thought his paw was foul-smelling." Thor mutters as he rejoins his friends.

Loki watches as Fenris raises the mug to drink. "Inatua." As Loki whispers the brief incantation, he gives a slight wave of his hand. Suddenly finding his drink empty, the wolf growls and holds the dry mug directly above his head that he may look inside. With the flick of his fingers and a muttering of "Geffa Rigna," Fenris's ale reappears, only to instantly come spilling out onto the wolf's face.

Fenris growls furiously, ready to kill whoever was responsible for this trickery. Loki is laughing openly and still has his hand held up from performing the spell. As soon as the young trickster god notices the wolf snarling at him menacingly, his laughter dies in his throat, and his mischievous smile vanishes. As Fenris moves to charge at the mischief-maker, Loki steps to the side, placing Thor between the bloodthirsty wolf and himself.

Fenris rushes towards Loki and Thor. The latter turns to see what the noise behind him is just as the furious wolf bats him aside. Thor tumbles over a nearby table, thoroughly upsetting its disturbed occupants. Loki takes off running as the angry wolf chases him about the now chaotic room. It's only a matter of seconds before the entire crowd has joined in the fighting. Thor fights any brute that dares to cross him, greatly enjoying this first test of his strength outside of the training arena. Hogun easily bests his opponents, just wanting the brawl to be over. Despite being in the midst of battle, Volstagg drinks his fill, occasionally using the large keg in his arms to beat down a foolish attacker. Fandral somehow manages to find time to still flirt with the waitresses between opponents. And Loki runs through the room, weaving around combatants, in an attempt to get away form the still bloodthirsty Fenris.

The murderous wolf gains ground on the young trickster god, finally driving him back against a wall with no way to escape. Realizing he's trapped, Loki turns to face Fenris, bracing himself against the wall. His meager magic is no match for the brute strength and razor claws of the wolf currently staring down at his frightened prey. Loki looks around for someone to whom he could call for aid or someway out of the corner he had been backed into, but there is nothing, no one who could possibly help him in time... He is defenseless as Fenris raises his mighty claw to smite the young prince.

Thor sees the trickster's peril and rushes to help. But as the wolf prepares to strike, he sees he will not reach his little brother in time... "Loki!" Thor calls out to him just as the vicious attack lands on the terrified boy.

Fenris's claws slash down the left side of Loki's face and across his chest, effortlessly ripping through his clothing and skin. The young prince of Asgard cries out in pain and starts to collapse onto the inn floor, but Fenris delivers another blow before the boy even hits the ground. This time the wolf's paw strikes the side of the trickster's head, leaving a deep gash and sending him flying across the room. Loki slams against the wall and crumples to the floor, unconscious and bleeding.

Only now is Thor close enough to his brother's attacker to be able to hit him - only now that it is too late to protect the young trickster god. As soon as he's close enough to apply adequate force, Thor crashes his fist against the wolf's ugly snout. Fenris growls as he stumble back from the thunder god. But Thor isn't intimidated by the beast; no, he's just angry now. This wretched creature had dared to lay a hand on his little brother... And Thor would not let him get away with that...

The thunder god pummels the wolf with another blow, this time aimed at his gut. Fenris doubles over in pain, but only for a moment. Before Thor has time to hit him again, the wolf swipes his claws at Thor, meeting his mark and knocking the young thunderer's legs from beneath him. The Asgardian prince tumbles to the floor and quickly rolls o the side to avoid Fenris's follow-up attack. As soon as the wolf's fists crash into the ground where Thor had been only a second ago, Thor jumps up and, clutching his hands together to double the force, brings his combined hands down on top of the wolf's skull. Fenris howls in pain as he falls on the dirty floor. Before the beast has time to recover, Thor delivers a swift kick to the side of his head. The wolf lies still, having lost consciousness from the impact of the young thunder god's furious attack. Thor wants to see the monster suffer more for hurting his brother, however, that same brother still needs his help...

Thor hurries to where Loki now lies on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. He hasn't moved since he landed here. He's barely even breathing... About this time, Volstagg sees the two princes in the floor - one lying very still and the other kneeling beside him. "Hogun! Fandral! What you boy say we be gettin' out a here?" He points to the two brothers as the two warriors look in his direction Upon seeing the royal children on the floor, Hugun's eyes open wide. They are going to be in so much trouble...

The Warriors Three make their way to the young princes and are alarmed by the amount of blood covering the floor. Thor looks up at them, concern clear on his face. Loki's eyes are closed, and it is obvious the blood is his.

"You alright?" Fandral asks Thor hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder at the inn's patrons moving in on them. Thor nods, and Hogun hauls him to his feet. Volstagg drops the keg of ale he had been carrying in favor of scooping the unconscious Loki into his arms. The trickster hangs limp and is unnaturally pale, even for him.

Hogun and Thor push through the crowd first, clearing a path for Volstagg and Loki. As soon as they can, they barrel through the door and out into the cool night air. The angry innkeeper and his guests chase after them, but they make it back on their small ship with no further injury. As infuriated as the inn's patrons are, chasing after the Asgardian ship would just create even more trouble. So with their problem sailing off into the night, everyone is able to return to their drinks only slightly grumpier than they were before.

Volstagg carefully lays a still bleeding Loki down on the ship's deck. Thor instantly at his little brother's side, clearly concerned. The young trickster god is awake now, but he lies still, his eyes darting from worried face to worried face as everyone hovers about the badly injured boy. Loki finally makes eye contact with Thor. The glint of gleeful mischief Thor usually sees his little brother's eyes is one, replaced now by terrible fear and pain. Thor wants desperately to turn away from that look, but he knows he could never turn his back on his brother.

It is Fandral who finally breaks the tense silence. "I dare say we should try to bandage his wounds somewhat. Just staring at him all night will hardly help anyone." The Warriors Three set about locating a way to clean and bandage the nasty cuts on the younger prince's head and chest. Thor says with his brother, unwilling to leave him alone for even a second.

"Just hold on, brother. You're going to be alright." Tears form in Loki's eyes; he really wants to believe his brother, but he just can't. The pain is too great, and he can tell he is fading... Thor puts his hand on Loki's forehead, trying to be comforting. The touch makes the gash on the trickster's head to burn, but he appreciates the gesture nonetheless. Volstagg rushes back into Loki's sight a bowl of clean water and a tattered cloth in his hands. A moment later Fandral appears with cloth to use for bandages. Thor carefully turns his brother's head so is friends can tend to the boy's injury there first as it is likely the most serious. Loki gasps in pain as Volstagg begins cleaning the wound His eyes are bright and fevered, showing pure pain and terror. After only a few seconds, Loki's eyes close, and his breathing slowly returns to normal. "Loki? Loki!"

"Calm yourself, Thor." Hogun says irritably as he helps Fandral place a bandage on Loki's head.

Volstagg looks up at Thor now as well. "He's only passed out. And likely for the better too." Thor frowns at the large warrior but says nothing. He simply returns to staring down at his dying baby brother and holds his hand tightly, afraid he shall never again see Loki's bright smile or mischievousness eyes. The image of Loki's eyes in that moment of unbearable torment is burned into Thor's mind. He can't help but wonder if this will prove too much for the young trickster to handle...

*~*~*

Thor wanders the halls of his father's palace in Asgard. They had arrived back safely, and Loki had been taken directly to the healers. Yet it had been nearly two weeks, and Thor's brother still sleeps. His wounds had become infected before they even made it back, and that had led to a horrid fever. Loki suffers nightmares day in and day out; he never has peace, and he is healing slowly. The healers are unsure if the trickster god shall ever be able to recover from this. Thor has been encouraged to with life for now, but he can't do that. It wouldn't be right. It is his fault Loki had been hurt. He will not have rest until his brother does. Thor foresees many sleepless nights ahead of him as Loki's condition never seems to improve...


	2. Chapter 2

Noise. Constant noise. Never stopping. Never quieting. If anything it grows louder. Nay, it is definitely becoming louder. It is screaming, shouting, refusing to be ignored. Loki felt he would be deafened by it, were it not coming from within his own mind. The only thing worse than the terrible sounds is the horrific visions that accompany them. The feverish trickster's mind is plagued by images of blood, broken bodies, and death. No one is safe from Loki's nightmares; not Fandral, Volstagg, or Hogun, not his mother or father, not Thor, not even himself. The awful dreams continue one after another until he wakes the healer who never leaves his bedside. Of course he does not mean to wake him, but the troubled boy can hardly be expected to control himself in his sleep, especially in his current state. The healer does his best to calm Odin's son, but it is to no avail. This fever, brought on by ghastly wounds, had a firm grip on the young god of mischief. There is nothing anyone can do for him but wait. Wait and hope for the best.

Loki has not awakened since he was returned to Asgard nearly two weeks before. He should have been healed by now, but that blasted fever is slowing the effect of the healer's spells. Every night and often in the day as well, the young prince will thrash about from the horror of his fever-driven dreams. And every time, the ever-present healer is astounded by the way the child's face contorts into a grimace born of pure terror and anguish. He rests his hand on Loki's forehead and tries for the hundredth time to calm him. But of course, the effort is in vain. Loki only stirs in his sleep momentarily, then cries out again as he turns away from the healer's gentle touch, a single tear escaping on of his tightly closed eyes.

Loki's nightmares grow worse.

The wind whips the snow around the small child. He wants to get up, to run away, to take shelter. But he cannot so much as move. He is wrapped too tightly in the blanket covering him. All he can do is lie in the snow and listen. Listen to the terrifying noise surrounding him. There are shouts of battle, mingled with cries of death, bound by the clash of weapons. It seems to have gone on for hours already. Will they ever stop? Not likely, for war is all they know.

And the child begins to cry. What else can it do? He has been left here to die. He knows that, and he cannot fight it. He is too small to fight or even be worth fighting for. All he can do is listen as others fight around him.

The harsh sounds of battle are getting closer, and the tiny boy cries even louder, desperately hoping that someone hear and save him. For what is he to do when the fighting reaches him? Nothing. There is nothing he can do.

Two combatants stumble into the child's view, but no others follow. And he can tell that they are special. Far fiercer than all of the other warriors, these two must be the leaders of the two great armies fighting below.

They crash through a nearby column, easily reducing it to rubble. And still they fight, one with daggers of ice and the other with a shining gold spear. They each land vicious attacks but neither has yet to gain the upper hand.

As their battle rages on, the child tries to shrink away as best he can from the fighting figures, menacing unrecognizable shadows through the dense snowfall.

Finally the attacker with the daggers of ice takes advantage of a misstep of his opponent's. As the man stumbles forward, an icy dagger slashes across his face. the man cries out - a terrible pained yet vengeful roar - and bats his enemy away from him with his great spear. He is wounded and enraged as he forces his opponent back. At last, the mighty spear rests at the throat of its owner's now defeated enemy.

The world falls silent except the child's forlorn cries. It is these distressed cries that now catch the victor's attention. His war ended, he makes his way to the abandoned babe lying in the snow. He pauses for a moment to stare down at the helpless child, his face still masked by blood and snow.

The child gazes up at the man towering over him. His cries catch in his throat as he stares up at that blood-covered face. This must surely be a monster! His first enemy likely killed, what shall he do to the defenseless child? The boy finds it hard to so much as breathe as the monster begins to reach down towards him.

The monster's hands close around him to pluck him from the snow, and as he feels himself rising he knows his life here has come to an end...

A raw scream tears from Loki's throat as he suddenly finds himself sitting up in his bed. There is no trace of the frigid terrain or shadowy monster from his nightmare, but the poor boy trembles with fear all the same. He looks around the room in confusion a sit is not the place where he last knew himself to be, neither in his dream nor the incident prior. How did he get back here? He reaches up to his head to find it heavily bandaged, along with his chest. So the journey outside of Asgard with Thor had definitely been real. Now feeling the pain of his wounds awakening as well, Loki remembers the fight in the inn, but the last he recalls is of Fenris the Wolf. The beast struck him, and then his world seemed to fade out of focus. Obviously, Thor had brought him back home to Asgard, and he is healing... but what had happened after he had fallen unconscious?

Loki slips from his bed but dares not take another step as he spies the healer inn a chair across the room. The man is sleeping, having clearly tired himself out in his attempts to ease the troubled prince's sleep. Even Loki's cry as he awoke from his latest nightmare had not been enough to wake the exhausted healer Loki relaxes at this discovery, but in thanks for his aid, the boy is careful not to disturb the healer's rest as he quietly exits his chambers.

Gently closing the door behind him, Loki emerges into the deserted hallway. The silence in the corridor is deafening, and the young god of mischief feels he cannot get somewhere safe soon enough, as the eerie quiet stirs up the fresh fear of abandonment from his dreams. Loki runs down hall after hall before finally reaching the room he had been in such a hurry to get to. The frightened boy does not hesitate to pull the door open and slip inside, allowing the door to click closed behind him. He sprints across the dark room, unhindered by the lack of light. He has been here so may times he could find his way to the bed against the far wall even on the darkest of nights. Reaching the bedside he suddenly stops. Loki had done this often when he had nightmares as a child, but he is older now... instead of comfort from all he has recently been through, he may very well be met with hostility for his late-night intrusion. The troubled trickster curses his foolishness and turns to leave, despite the fact that he is even now shaking from the terror of his fevered nightmares and the ever-increasing ache in his head from his still healing injury.

Loki has scarcely taken a single step when his arm is caught in a vice-like grip, rendering him incapable of moving from the spot. The young god gasps as he realizes there is no escaping that strong hand around his arm.

"Loki?" The sleepy voice sounds confused, but its owner's grip on him slackens, no longer holding him with such bruising force yet still enough to keep him in place. Loki timidly turns back to the man now sitting up in his bed, blinking dumbly in an attempt to clear the sleep from his eyes.

Thor cannot believe his eyes as he looks up at his little brother He has worried to no end about the young god of mischief, and now here he is, standing in front of him looking scared half to death. The trickster is shaking, an tears are streaming from his bright green eyes.

Facing the thunder god now, Loki no longer cares whether or not it was foolish of him to have run to his brother for comfort from his night terrors. Loki wraps his arms around his brother's neck, only vaguely aware that he is crying as he buries his face in the older boy's shoulder.

Thor is shocked by his little brother's behavior. Loki has not clung to him like this in several years; the younger prince had grown too prideful to show his emotions so plainly as this. But now, he needs his brother, and Thor will always be there for his baby brother. Thor hugs Loki close, feeling the small god shudder as he continues to sob.

Thor holds his brother closer until Loki finally calms down, having let all his fear pour out with his tears. His miserable cries quiet to slight whimpers of pain brought on by the crying in addition to his irritated head injury. Realizing his brother is doing better now, Thor moves over to make room for his little bother to lie down next to him in the bed. The trickster gladly crawls under the covers next to his brother. He still has so many questions about what happened, but they can wait for morning. Now, Loki finally drifts off into a an exhausted but peaceful sleep, safe in his older brother's protective embrace.

The next day, Loki wakes with the sun shining into his eyes from the open window. Thor is already awake and nervously waiting to see if his little brother will wake up again this morning. He smiles as the young god of mischief sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. "How are you feeling this morning, brother?"

Loki looks at him for a moment before answering. "I am... better than I was." Thor nods; given Loki's condition, this is as good as he could realistically expect of his fragile little brother. "How did I get here?"

Thor laughs lightly. "Well, I assume you walked here form your own room, dear brother. Or ran more likely, considering how upset you were."

Loki frowns, putting an end to Thor's laughter as good-natured as it may have been. "I meant Asgard. The last I remember... I was bleeding on the floor of some dirty inn."

"Ah, that. We got you out of there, brother. Sailed back to Asgard with great haste. You gave us quite a scare."

"You mean you never went to Jotunheim?"

"Of course not! You were hurt! We couldn't risk taking you to such an inhospitable world. You almost died as it was!" Thor is shocked that Loki believed they would have continued their quest at the risk of his life, and he is even more horrified that Loki seems upset by this news rather than relieved.

"I am sorry... I ruined your great adventure...If only I-"

"Loki, no." Thor interrupts his little brother before he ca pile further guilt upon himself for something that was hardly under his control. "It is not as if you were injured of any will of your own, and it is far better that I keep you safe than worry about some quest to wander about in the snow."

"You- You are not angry for having to return home so soon?"

"Don't be foolish, brother. As long as you are alright, I shall have no regrets of leaving Surtur's sword to lie in the snow for one year more." Thor smiles at his brother, who finally returns a smile of his own. "Besides," Thor says, clapping Loki on the back cheerfully and guiding him towards the door. "We can always try again next year!"

Loki only laughs in response as Thor leads him out of the room and down the hall, no doubt to join their parents for breakfast. He knows Thor is completely serious about his next adventure, but the trickster cannot help but laugh at his older brother's inexplicable ability to find excitement at even the faint possibility of action so much as an entire year in the future. Although, he is shortly given an even better reason to laugh...

The absolutely stunned and overjoyed look on Odin and Frigga's faces when Thor walks into the room, arm in arm with his little brother everyone believed to still be trapped within feverish nightmares.


End file.
